


Career

by silkinsilence



Series: Moicy Week 2019 [3]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, F/F, Moicy Week, Moicy Week 2019, Porn With Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-13
Updated: 2019-12-13
Packaged: 2021-02-26 01:07:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,020
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21774928
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silkinsilence/pseuds/silkinsilence
Summary: Moira lets her coworker-with-benefits stay at her off-base apartment when she's put on mandatory leave.
Relationships: Moira O'Deorain/Angela "Mercy" Ziegler
Series: Moicy Week 2019 [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1566913
Kudos: 55





	Career

**Author's Note:**

> For Moicy Week Day 3: Work/Holiday.

She hadn’t visited the apartment in months. It took several long moments of jiggling the key to remember it unlocked counter-clockwise, and then she silently cursed the idiot locksmith who’d made it so unintuitive. When she finally opened the door, she found it dark and stale-smelling inside.

She frowned, abruptly self-conscious. She remembered it as clean enough; she wouldn’t have invited company otherwise. But she hadn’t even visited herself before offering up the key.

Now it suddenly felt like showing off a part of herself, even more intimate than her body; she had never had that many qualms about getting naked.

She moved to take off her shoes and hang up her coat. It was odd to feel so on-edge in a place she considered hers, but still she carefully glanced around the little kitchen and bathroom and then walked down the brief hall as if investigating a stranger’s place.

There was warm light coming from under the bedroom door. She raised her eyebrows at that.

So she wasn’t alone after all.

She rapped and then immediately opened the door anyway, figuring that it was her apartment and its current resident hadn’t bothered locking it.

For good reason, apparently.

Doctor Ziegler—Angela—had lit a candle on her bedside table but kept the overhead lights off. The warm orange light made for a dramatic glow against her pale skin, especially when there was so much of it on display.

“Welcome home,” she purred, and stood. Moira remained frozen in the doorway with her hand on the knob. Whatever she’d expected, it hadn’t been this.

Angela wore dark lingerie, the color difficult to discern in the dim light. Moira took in the lace bra and panties and then let her gaze linger on Angela’s shapely legs, clothed as they were in dark hose. She might have stepped out of the pages of a filthy magazine, or out of Moira’s fantasies.

Their...liaisons had been exclusively on-base affairs, and usually they happened so quickly that Moira had little time to take in the sight of Angela’s body, though she was familiar enough with the feel and taste of her. She was good to look at like this. Very good.

“Enjoying your vacation, are you?” Moira said, her voice low. She took a step closer. Angela’s pale hair shone in the candlelight. Moira wanted to rip open her stockings. She wanted her sweaty and disheveled and pleading.

“More now,” Angela said. She took a step forward and then another, her hips purposefully swaying. Moira couldn’t look away from the curves of her thick thighs. “It’s lonely here alone.”

“You could go out,” Moira said.

“I did,” Angela said, and then frowned. “There’s nothing to do. It’s boring.”

Moira tsked, finding herself wanting to argue but knowing that she would feel the same in Angela’s shoes. If she collapsed from exhaustion and Gabriel forced her to take time off, she would feel aimless, purposeless. Like a failure. They would call it a vacation, but it would feel like a cage.

Of course, that would first require Gabriel to care if she was overworking herself.

“You could have gone anywhere in the world on Overwatch’s dime,” Moira said, and she took another step. “California. Japan. Iceland.”

They were barely a foot apart now. Angela’s lips were dark; she’d applied lipstick. She would leave marks on Moira’s mouth, on her throat, between her legs.

“What would I do there? It’s not what I want,” Angela said dismissively. She reached out and curled her fingers around Moira’s tie, but didn’t pull.

“You have so much time,” Moira murmured. “You should enjoy it.”

Angela scoffed, her expression sharpening. “Don’t do that. Don’t speak down to me.”

Moira muttered an apology and meant it. She didn’t want to condescend to Angela. She just wanted to prevent a tragedy. Angela was a young star, filled with life and potential and infinite opportunity, and here she was slaving away alongside Moira for an organization that they both knew was a black hole. It would take all they had and give nothing back.

Moira loathed and envied Angela for all that opportunity, and there she was, squandering it.

“My apologies,” Moira said, and smiled. “I thought you liked being spoken down to.”

She moved her hand to Angela’s waist and trailed her nails along her skin. Angela shivered a bit under her touch.

“Do you like having me here?” Angela asked breathlessly. “Waiting for you to come home, your obedient little housewife?”

Such a domestic fantasy. They could roleplay the screaming arguments too, and the tears, and the inevitable divorce.

“No,” Moira said dismissively. “But I’ve always wanted a pet.”

Angela’s eyes widened. Moira could almost see her getting wetter, her body responding, as it always did, to degradation. Moira slipped her fingers under the lacy hem of her panties and scratched lightly down her ass. Again she felt her shudder. So responsive.

“Thank you for taking me in,” Angela said.

“It’s a dangerous world out there for stray kittens.” She spread her fingers and palmed at the flesh of Angela’s ass, pulling her in so that their bodies were pressed together.

“Why do you even have this place?”

Moira stiffened. Angela noticed, and at once she was apologizing, clearly eager to resume their game. Moira kept her smile on even as her thoughts soured.

Why did she keep the apartment? She wanted somewhere safe, somewhere to call her own. Somewhere to keep her secrets, before she realized that _Commander Reyes_ knew all of them anyway. A place to pretend that there was anything to her but her work, which now seemed like nothing more than failure stacked upon failure.

She kept it to believe she still had a future.

But the present was pleasant enough, with Angela hot against her, those painted lips mouthing at her neck. Moira let her fingers circle the tight ring of Angela’s ass before working the tip of her index finger carefully inside. Angela’s moans only spurred her on. 

What else to do, with no future before her, but to enjoy this moment while it lasted?

**Author's Note:**

> Comments always greatly appreciated!


End file.
